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Chapter 5: Among the Ruins
The group approached the ruined and once-great city of the old Númenoreans, Fornost. Despite its ruined towers and crumbling pavestones, it had a dilapidated majesty, and Suka walked in awe towards it. Gaerdir had finished his business in Bree, speaking to important people and highlighting the commercial and communal importance of Thomm the smith and Butterbur the innkeeper, and caught up with the group. Merileth and Boendal remained in Bree to finalise Gaerdir's progress and to investigate what they could, while Aragost thought it right to join Logrim in the Blue Mountains, seeing as she was without protection or guard. He bade the group farewell and promised he would keep Logrim safe, then left before the rest reached Deadmen's Dike. Approaching the city, they noticed the broken gate was open wide and upon further inspection within its walls, it seemed evident there was a recent fight that took place here, with fresh blood spotted across the pavestone cracks. Faêrynell and Duvaindir opted to scout ahead, with the ranger tracking footprints and marks on the ground while the elf climbed onto a nearby roof and kept watch from above. While Suka and Ferwyn gazed at the wonder of the ruins, Gaerdir eyed weapons on the ground. Some were orcish, but a bow he came across was surprisingly reminiscent of Faêrynell's bow design. Memorizing stories of battle and warfare told to him by his father and grandfather, it seemed to him that there had been some sort of ambush, although on what side he couldn't be sure. Faêrynell stealthily tracked the blood and steps through the streets and alleyways of the city, with Duvaindir shadowing her on the rooftops. He could hear in the distance the clashing of metal and as Faêrynell walked on, so did she. Walking further, she ventured into what seemed like an old marketplace, and there she found numerous bodies of both orcs and of her own kind. Duvaindir joined her on the ground as they surveyed the bodies. The elf came across one ranger who seemed to be breathing, albeit with great struggle. Faêrynell ran to the blood-covered man who she slightly recognised from previous meetings. "Talvon!" she exclaimed. His eyes squinted to make her out. "My friend..." he choked. "What happened here?" "We... received a message from our scouts... orcs were gathering here. We came to root them out..." His breathing became more struggled, and Duvaindir thought there was no hope for him. "We were ambushed. More orcs came... We fought... We killed most of them but we lost many..." "I promise you... there will be no orcs left standing here when I am done." Faêrynell assured. "G-Galor... is here. Find him..." His eyes widened and he exhaled one last breath before he lay still and unmoving. Faêrynell closed his eyes and turned to Duvaindir, readying her bow and arrow. "Bring our friends. My people are dying. I will not stand by." She climbed onto a nearby rooftop and headed towards the sounds of fighting as Duvaindir sprinted to the rest of the group. Gaerdir, Ferwyn and Suka stood alert as their friend returned to them in haste, informing them of what he and the ranger had come across. Hearing that orcs were ahead, Suka darted through the streets, ulu and club at the ready, followed by the rest. Faêrynell walked further ahead on the rooftops and overlooked a large courtyard with a ruined fountain in its centre. Six orcs faced down three remaining rangers. She saw her superior, Galor, fighting three by himself. One ranger looked very wounded facing against one orc, and Faêrynell let loose her arrow and helped even the odds, as her arrow pierced his eye, felling him. The startled ranger became distracted, allowing an orcish spear to pierce his back, which felled him too. The rest of the group ran in the street below the ranger, and saw where she aimed. They ran through an alleyway and found themselves in the courtyard. Duvaindir immediately ran on top of the old fountain and shot an arrow into one of the orcs. Gaerdir followed suit and struck his own spear into an orc, and Ferwyn aided the other ranger, albeit too late, as he was struck by an orc blade across the chest, but Ferwyn avenged him. Suka, driven by his hatred for orcs, ran to one of the orcs beside the able Galor, and sliced his ulu and beat his club across one orc, incapacitating him. Galor, an older ranger, was cut in his leg by one orc, forcing him to kneel. Undeterred, the veteran ranger reared up with his sword, inflicting the same wound on the orc before sticking his unsheathed dagger into the orc's neck, and decapitating him with both weapons. With help from Faêrynell and Duvaindir's arrows and Gaerdir, Suka and Ferwyn's spear, club, ulu and sword, the remainder of the orcs were cut down. Galor leaned on his sword, out of breath and in pain. "Thank you, friends. I would not have withstood them without your aid." Faêrynell ran into the courtyard and to Galor, helping him over to the fountain to lean against on the ground. She immediately started covering his wounds with the athelas Duvaindir provided and cloth from a nearby cloak. "Galor..." Faêrynell hesitated. "What happened?" The ranger captain sat up, his pain eased thanks to the athelas. "Our scouts sent word orcs were gathering here and needed rooting out. We came and more orcs arrived just after us. We lost many good men and women... too many good rangers. Old and young... such a loss of life..." he trailed off. "Could this message have been sent by another?" Faêrynell pressed. "No. I knew the handwriting. It was genuine. Whatever the orcs were gathering here for worries me." "They will pay for what we lost." Faêrynell sighed angrily. "That they will, my friend. I am alive because of you and your friends. I take it you would not be here for no reason?" "We are searching for Afran and his elven companion, Alhyel. We believe they passed this way." "They may have indeed then. I found this over by the large door over there before the orcs swarmed on us." Galor pointed at a surprisingly sturdy door for such an old ruin, and took from his pocket a battered yet still beautiful amulet set with an even more beautiful gem inside it. This immediately caught Gaerdir's attention. "May I?" the craftsman glumly asked, before Galor gave it to him. He studied it intently. It was of his own make and his own design, and he remembered all too well giving it as a gift to its wearer. He walked over to the sturdy door, clasping the amulet tightly. "This door?" Galor nodded and without hesitation, the elf opened the unlocked door and headed in. Suka and Ferwyn intently followed him, while Duvaindir helped Faêrynell split the bodies of orcs and Dúnedain. Gaerdir, uneasy at the darkness he was descending into, was followed closely by the Lossoth and the Rohirrim. Following cracked stone stairs down and down, the three worked their way through corridors of stone, Gaerdir hesitating at points - he had never been in such a dark place before. They eventually found themselves following a light in the darkness and soon found themselves in front of a recently made - and locked - door by Gaerdir's reckoning. Whatever was in here was clearly of some value to be kept locked away. The three used their combined strength to break the door down. Meanwhile, above ground, Faêrynell had made a respectful pyre for her fallen ranger friends with Duvaindir's help. Faêrynell made a fire from nearby resources and the three sat and watched silently as the pyre was slowly lit, and the bodies consumed by flames. The bodies of the orcs were piled up in a heap, with an orc's head stuck through an orcish spear. "They are avenged at least." Galor finally said. "But all orcs will pay for this. I swear it." "Galor," Faêrynell started. "Have you heard of a wizard called Sharkey? He seemingly wants us dead." Galor pondered for a moment. "I have not had many dealings with wizards. That is not a name I know for Gandalf the Grey... but I do know Saruman the Betrayer goes by many names." Faêrynell sat silently and was both angered and saddened at the makeshift pyre before her. Gaerdir, Suka and Ferwyn finally broke the hinges on the door, climbing over the broken door carefully. No light or noise had come from this room, and Ferwyn brought the torch in to the room. They looked ahead to find a long corridor of cells, filled with dust, stone, ash and bones. They creeped ahead and saw signs of a scuffle in front of one cell on the left. Shining the torch light on it, there was a body. The unlocked cell door was opened and Gaerdir ventured in, with Ferwyn holding the torch above him and Suka exploring ahead in case he found anything else. Gaerdir turned the hunched figure around. There were no signs of life, and Gaerdir saw what he had feared. Battered, bruised, cut with wrists clearly at one point bound, lay an elf. Her throat had a clean cut across it, and Gaerdir saw in one hand an elvish dagger with blood on it. He held the deceased figure in his arms and Suka and Ferwyn understood. Gaerdir noticed her other hand was clenched and upon opening it, found a small piece of parchment. Illegible in the torch-lit darkness, the three slowly and respectfully lifted the limp body and carried it back through the corridors. Faêrynell, Duvaindir and Galor noticed the three companions return out of the door with a body. The elf archer and Dúnedain ran to them and helped lay the body by the fountain. They looked at Gaerdir, who simply said: "It is Alhyel." Faêrynell put her hand on his shoulder. "I am sorry, my friend. We both have lost much this day." Gaerdir revealed the parchment and saw it clearer in the midday sun. It was in Sindarin for sure but much of it was illegible and clearly written in haste. After perusing it for some time, he passed it to Duvaindir and Faêrynell, who also knew the elven language well. What was clear in the note were the words "Afran taken... Mount Gram... Danger comes... the East. Find the Blue... threat. War... North." The last sentence was the most legible. "If you read this, friend, know they tried and failed to get any information out of me." They spent some time discussing the possible meaning and contents of the note, before Galor spoke up, rising from the ground to Gaerdir. "I am truly sorry for your loss, friend. She clearly meant something to you. But she should not be left here like this... I take it by the way you hold that amulet that you gave her that gift?" Gaerdir looked at Galor, and sighed. "I did." "I am sorry. But if Afran has been taken to Mount Gram, you should go for him as soon as you can. He may yet live." "I will not leave her like this!" Gaerdir snapped, losing his usual composure. "What should we do with her body?" Ferwyn asked. "She was fond of the rivers and streams around Rivendell." Gaerdir calmed down. "She should be sent down the river and into the sea, so that her body may make its way west to Valinor." The group nodded in silence as Faêrynell grabbed another nearby cloak on the ground and gently covered the elf's body. Gaerdir leaned down and closed her eyes and gently stroked her cheek, before fully covering her. He whispered in elvish, "May your spirit find it's way into the Halls of the Valar."